What's Luck Got to Do with It
by lightblue-Nymphadora
Summary: Tonks is having an unlucky spell. Harry is scared. Tonks/Harry. Humor


**What's Luck Go to Do with It**

Harry felt horrible. He knew what he was doing made him the worst husband in the history of marriage. He'd said for better or worse. He'd said through sickness and in health. But this…this was too much. He wasn't brave enough of to handle this. This decided, he walked down the rain drenched street to the house on the corner. He could hear children's voices inside, and as he rang the bell, a stampede of footsteps came toward the door.

"Uncle Harry!" Neville Jr. yelped, launching himself at The Boy Who Lived to Reach Adulthood. His siblings clamored to hug Harry as well.

"Come inside you lot!" Hannah called. "Neville, let go of Harry—he can't breathe."

"Morning Hannah," Harry said, smiling.

"How are you?" she asked. "I'm glad to see you made it through another mission without a scratch."

He chuckled nervously. "Yeah, doing fine."

"Neville's in his study. I'll try to keep the kids occupied so the two of you can talk," she said, winking at him.

* * *

"Okay…let me get this straight," Neville said slowly. "Something happened on your last mission…and now you can't be around your wife."

"It's not that I can't, I just…."

"Why don't you start from the beginning?" Neville suggested. He poured two cups of tea, and sat next to Harry. "What happened?"

Harry sighed. "We were after two wizards who had been breeding magical creatures. Normally, that would be something for regular Magical Law Enforcement, but they were using the animals to…er…destroy stuff. Among other things. Anyway, we were raiding their den when…the mess started."

* * *

"Remember," Tonks told the large team of Aurors and Ministry wizards. "Don't touch any of the animals without a handler."

Harry and their handler followed Tonks to the very back of the den. "Let's start with that one."

"What is it?" Tonks asked.

"Looks like the combo between…er…." The handler paused and looked at the creature. "I don't actually know. Let's get him back to the lab. You two will be the first to know what it is."

The process went on for about an hour and a half. They found that the "engineered" creatures were in the back, and the regular, but dangerous, creatures were in the front. By the time they made it there, everyone was tired and wanted to go home. Harry and Tonks helped their handler cart a large lobster-looking thing out to one of the Ministry cars. Harry's head snapped to the side when he heard Tonks yell. "Tonks! What's wrong?"

"Fucker bit me!" she said as they lowered the cage to the ground.

"Oh no…" the handler said. He dodged the creature's claws to walk over to Tonks.

"What the hell is that thing?" Harry asked.

"A Mackled Malaclaw," the handler answered, taking some ointment out of his bag and putting it on Tonks's arm. "That should take the sting away."

"It's turning green!" she said.

"That'll go away in about an hour. The other effects…well, they'll take about a week to wear off."

"What other—argh!" she yelped. A bird had pooped on her.

"The bite of a Mackled Malaclaw makes the receiver unlucky for around a week. Don't bet on anything."

"You're telling me that you're hiding from Tonks because she's unlucky?" Neville asked, laughing.

"You don't understand!" Harry insisted. "It started out with little things—the bird poop, stubbed toes—that kind of thing. But it keeps getting worse! I just brought her home from St. Mungo's. She's got a broken arm—still won't tell me what happened. She's taking the rest of the week off. I'm not, you know, trying to stay away from her completely. I have to go home for meals, at any rate. I just…need a break."

* * *

"Scardy-cat," Neville said, smirking. "What? Do you think the bad luck's going to rub off on you?"

"No, I'm afraid I'm going to be collateral damage," Harry told him with an embarrassed smile.

"How long are you going to hide out here?"

"I'm sure my guilt will have become unbearable by lunchtime. Plus, I don't think Tonks should be left alone with a kitchen this week."

* * *

Harry walked into the flat, surveying the area for damage. "Tonks?" Harry called.

"I'm in here!"

Harry walked into their bedroom and smiled.

Tonks was sitting on their bed, six books open in front of her, and a box of Band-Aids in her lap.

"What are you up to?" Harry asked, giving her a kiss.

"Trying to figure out a cure."

"Is there one?" Harry slid a few of the books to the side so he could sit next to her.

"No."

"Band-Aids?"

She pouted at him and held up her hands. "Paper cuts. Didn't want to heal them until I was done reading."

"You're done reading," Harry said, smiling. He waved his wand, and the books flew over to the desk and stacked themselves. "I'm sure we can find something safe to do around here."

"How safe do you think sex is?" Tonks asked with a smirk.

Immediately, dozens of horrifying images flew through Harry's mind. He'd never envisioned turning down sex with Tonks, but…the day had come. "Er…I don't know…what with your luck issues."

"What's luck got to do with it? This takes skill."

"Dublin Destroyers are playing," Harry said, getting up. "Let's go listen."

Tonks laughed and followed. She tripped over the sheets, but managed to catch herself before she face-planted. "Hey, I think it's wearing off!"

Harry said nothing as Tonks stubbed her toe again.


End file.
